I wish to tell you my dear friends,
How much I miss you;
Your company, your cheer, your laughter.
Yet i wonder if the time elapsed in the periods of which I come up for air grow too long.
That yours are ships that have sailed beyond horizons I cannot hope to reach.
Some horizons that I cannot see.
That by the time you are making a return journey or that I have caught up,
that you would have grown accustomed to a foreign land -learnt to speak their tongue, and adopted their customs. Adapted to a new way of life.
And that we would be strangers once more.
Inside the ship’s galleys,
I keep shelved tokens of our friendships
-of memories I cannot forget.
And I sit and wonder if somewhere,
you keep your own copies bottled and shelved too.
I fear you will not accept the ways in which
deep currents have changed me.
Sometimes I regret that we could not have met now after they have changed me instead.
Perhaps you would have found that I am stronger in compassion. That treading in open waters do not scare me as they once did.
Perhaps you would find me better company, and that perhaps messages between us would become more frequent than what they now are.
I cannot tell if you think I no longer care when your travels have landed you with bountiful blessings. Nor care to mourn your losses with you.
I fear you cannot tell that in murky waters I would like nothing more than to be with you, but the weariness that beseachs me is more than I can bear.
Who would want to struggle out of the water and call a friend, only to have them mistake your struggling attempts with your last vestiges of strength, as half-hearted concern?
I fear that I am an island.
And that perhaps you may have no more wish to return.